Face Value
by Gary Merchant
Summary: After a transfer from the regular army to UNIT, Corporal Carol Bell finds things a little different.


FACE VALUE

It was her first day. She has passed through the initial interview with no problems – she had been surprised about the lack of comments about a woman being in a man's job. But she had put paid to such implied criticisms long ago when she had first joined the regular army. And now, thanks in part to a recommendation from Jimmy Turner, a contemporary of hers, she had been accepted as a member of UNIT.

She still wasn't sure what the post entailed, but she would soon find out. Her first meeting with her commanding officer was in less than ten minutes. She smoothed down her uniform and made her way to his office.

She sat in silence as the Brigadier studied her file. "Well, this all seems in order," he said. "Tell me, Corporal, why UNIT?"

Carol Bell had been expecting this question. "I was after a fresh challenge, sir. The regular army is fine as it stands, but there's not much in the way of development. Not for women, anyway."

"General Scobie might disagree," the Brigadier suggested.

"With respect, sir," Carol ventured, "General Scobie is a real stick-in-the-mud when it comes to dealing with women. He may be a first class General, but when it comes to female officers, he seems to think we're there purely for the men to gawp at."

The Brigadier couldn't hold back a smile. "I suppose he is rather set in his ways," he admitted. "So you decided to move on?"

"Well, as I said before, I wanted something more challenging, but I was getting nowhere," she replied. "A lot of doors were closed to me, partly because I was a woman." She corrected herself. "In fact, I think that was the only reason. And then Captain Turner suggested I apply for UNIT."

"I see." The Brigadier leaned back in his chair. "Corporal, do you know what UNIT's remit involves?"

"Only the basics, sir," Carol said. "Investigating the unknown and the unexplained. Whether it originates from Earth, or elsewhere." She hesitated before asking her question. "Are we talking about visitors from other worlds?"

"We are indeed, Corporal," he replied. "Do I detect a note of scepticism?"

"Well…"

The Brigadier smiled. "I was sceptical too, at first. Until I met the Doctor, of course."

"The Doctor?" Carol Bell was curious. She had heard rumours about this man.

"Our scientific advisor," he explained. "Presumably you've heard about the London Event of two years ago?"

She nodded. "I've seen the official reports."

"They only tell half the story," he told her. "It might be advisable to familiarise yourself with the UNIT files on the London Event, as well as other instances. They should make interesting reading."

That had been two weeks ago, and Carol had since read the files in question. Despite her initial doubts, she had to admit that the contents had filled many gaps prevalent in the official versions. And when she had seen Scobie's name against the file labelled Auto Plastics, she began to piece together the fragmented story she had heard weeks before with the report now in front of her.

Scobie had been given a leave of absence following his involvement in the affair, but members of his platoon had spoken of a raid on the Auto Plastics factory, and how the General had been replaced with an impostor. This was shown to be the case thanks to the Doctor.

What Carol couldn't quite get her head around were the varying descriptions of the Doctor, either as a tall, flamboyant man, or as a shorter, scruffy individual. At first, she had assumed that 'Doctor' was a code name for two separate people. But her colleagues insisted that this was not the case at all.

Benton had tried to explain it. "You see, Carol, when I first knew the Doctor there," he said, pointing to the photo of the white haired man, "he looked like him." The sergeant was now indicating the picture of a shorter man with dark hair.

"But they're two totally different people," she insisted. Then she wondered if this was part of some initiation test. "Is this a wind up, John?"

Benton shook his head. "Ask the Brigadier. He'll tell you the same thing."

The Brigadier had wasted no time in placing Carol Bell as his second-in-command. It was an effective arrangement, the decision having been partly due to the lack of funds allocated to UNIT. "It's a rum do," the Brigadier had said. "We all signed the Official Secrets Act, but UNIT isn't officially recognised as part of the armed forces. I've lost count of the number of times the Government purse has had to be prised open to get the finance we need. Not only for the men, but also for the equipment the Doctor needs."

Again, the Doctor. "Who is he, sir?" Carol immediately wished she'd never asked the question. "I hate to ask, but given that there are no official records of him from before the Auto Plastics incident, anyone outside of UNIT would have grounds for suspicion."

"You make a valid point, Corporal," the Brigadier noted. "Do you see the Doctor as a security risk?"

She could see that he was testing her. "I don't know," was her honest answer. "I've not had any dealings with him so far, so I can't make a fair judgement. But you've known him longer than most of us here, sir. What's your opinion of him?"

"Well, he can be unorthodox, and at times infuriating," he replied. "But I would trust the Doctor with my life."

Carol hadn't expected such a forthright answer. But while she was assured by the Brigadier's candour, her initial doubts concerning the Doctor had once again resurfaced.

A few days later, Carol was seated at the Brigadier's desk when the door flew open, the accompanying breeze sending a few papers to the floor. Cursing, Carol looked up from her work. He was standing there facing her, as if he owned the place. "Hello. Is the Brigadier about?"

"He's away in Geneva," Carol replied, as she moved from her desk to pick up the fallen papers.

"Here, let me help." The Doctor was apologetic, grabbing various documents and placing them on the desk in no particular order. "So, what is it this time? More red tape to cut through?"

Carol regarded him coolly. "Doctor, I can't possibly tell you, even if you are on the UNIT payroll." She retrieved the last of the papers and returned to her desk. "What did you want, anyway? Can I help?"

The Doctor waved away her question and looked at her. "You must be Corporal Bell."

"The Brigadier's second in command," she informed him. "So any concerns you have can go through me in his absence." She hadn't intended to sound so cold toward him, but he must have picked up on it, she realised.

"Corporal, have I offended you in some way? I wouldn't want there to be any bad feeling between us, especially if we're meant to be working together."

Carol decided to lay her cards on the table. "If I'm honest, Doctor, I don't know if I could place my trust in you in the same way the Brigadier seems to. To me, you're an unknown quantity. Officially, you didn't exist until three months ago – a man with no past. So how can I be expected to work with someone who seems to have literally appeared from nowhere?" She picked up the Doctor's file. "This only gives me a basic outline. I don't even know if you're British. You could be a foreign national, or an illegal alien."

"Unconventional, perhaps," he smiled, "but definitely not illegal."

Carol felt as though the Doctor were enjoying some private joke at her expense, but she held her temper. "Doctor, you're not making this easy for me."

"Yes, I'm sorry. Believe me, I do understand your point of view." The Doctor was thoughtful. "So, if I can give you some proof of my identity, would that help?"

"It would be a start, yes."

"Well, let's start with what you already know," the Doctor suggested. "Now, I first met the Brigadier..."

"At the London Event, yes," Carol interrupted. "But if I'm to believe your file, your appearance was markedly changed to how you look now. And no amount of plastic surgery could account for the height difference."

"So you think I'm an impostor, do you?" Carol Bell's icy stare gave the answer. "Oh, you do."

Carol attempted to make sense of the situation. "I can understand the Brigadier providing political sanctuary for a defecting scientist, such as yourself," she said, "but as for you and this other man supposedly being one and the same – well, it does seem rather far fetched."

He nodded. "I suppose it would. But it's just a question of having an open mind."

"I'm not sure I understand."

"Well, let's look at you, Corporal." The Doctor leant forward. "You have an enquiring mind, and your appointment to UNIT would suggest that you're open to new ideas." Carol silently conceded the point. "I imagine Lethbridge Stewart gave you the usual pep talk, about UNIT investigating the odd, and the unexplained. So isn't it feasible, given the evidence in front of you, that I might fall under that very criteria?"

Carol Bell stared at him, then looked again at his file; the London event and various others incidents, the last of which were the recent troubles with the Mars Probe rocket. Each incident referring to the Doctor, in some instances wearing a different face from the one now facing her. But while the incidents themselves were well documented, the Doctor's claims about himself were just too fantastic. "No, Doctor. I need proof. Not some half baked fantasy."

The Doctor seemed to consider her reply, before coming to a decision. "I think I can provide your proof," he said, rising from his chair, "if you can tear yourself away from this office for a few moments."

Against her better judgement, Carol Bell had agreed to the Doctor's suggestion. And so she had accompanied him to the laboratory. "So, what are we doing here?"

"All in good time, my dear," the Doctor assured her.

A woman in a lab coat turned to him. "I take it the Brigadier wasn't in?"

"Not this time, Liz," he replied. "But I persuaded Corporal Bell to join us instead."

"Doctor!" There was a warning note in the woman's voice, which Carol picked up on. Almost as if she were scolding a naughty schoolboy. "What are you up to?"

"Nothing," he promised. "Just attempting to convince her of my credentials."

It seemed as though the Doctor and Professor Shaw were sharing the same joke. Except Carol Bell wasn't find it funny. "Doctor, I haven't got all day. You were going to offer some proof of your claims?"

"Oh yes," he said, as though it were an afterthought. He led the Corporal across the lab to where a London Police Box stood in the corner. "There you are," he beamed. "This is the TARDIS."

"What, a Police Box?" She managed to stifle a laugh.

"That was my first reaction too," Professor Shaw told her. "I understand things better now."

Carol Bell looked back at her, and began to feel her first pangs of doubt. If Professor Shaw could accept this Doctor at face value...

The Doctor had produced a key and was slipping it into the lock. "You see, Corporal Bell, this is far more than just a simple Police Box. Why don't you step inside and take a look around?"

The door had been left ajar, and the Doctor stepped aside, allowing Carol free access. As her hand touched the door, she could feel a slight vibration. She almost drew back, but if only to challenge whatever bluff the Doctor had up his sleeve, she pushed the door open.

As her eyes became accustomed to the brightness, Carol stared in shock at the impossibly large room that she had just entered. A hexagonal control console – in some need of repair, it seemed – dominated the room. It had to be a trick of some kind, but as she turned back to the entrance, she could clearly see the reassuring familiarity of the lab from outside.

Then the Doctor entered, followed by Professor Shaw. "Well, what do you think, Corporal Bell?"

Carol struggled to find her voice as she took the enormity of it in. "You could have warned me about... this."

"Yes, I could," he agreed. "But would you have believed me?"

She shook her head. "I suppose not." She turned to Professor Shaw. "And you knew about this?"

"Not at first," she replied. "I took some convincing as well. Now... well, I just accept it."

She looked at the Doctor. "And you really can change your appearance?"

He stood in the centre of the room. "I'm a Time Lord, Corporal Bell. Not even remotely human. I'm stranded here on this planet with the clothes I stand up in, my TARDIS, and my friends here at UNIT. I hope I can include you as one of those friends."

It was all true, Carol Bell realised. Every word. If nothing else, UNIT was going to be very different from what she had been used to.

"Well," she said, smiling, "you did say I needed an open mind."


End file.
